


If

by windstar127



Category: Versailles no Bara | Rose of Versailles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windstar127/pseuds/windstar127
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something short and sweet about Oscar's feelings for Rosalie</p>
            </blockquote>





	If

_If..._

She pulls apart the heavy velvet drapes and looks out of the window. The moon hangs low in the sky. A hint of color at the horizon suggests that dawn will soon arrive. The festivities at Versailles have long since ended for the night, ended prematurely after the eleven year old daughter of one Madame Polignac threw herself off the roof of the palace. She should be asleep, should be resting and preparing to handle the fallout of the 'unfortunate accident' later today. Yet she is still awake.

She remembers the sight of the slight figure clad in a fashionable silk gown lying broken and motionless in a pool of blood on the flagstones and shivers. It could have been another girl. She sighs and leans against the cold glass. The chill seeped through her thin silk shirt and she relaxes. The room feels far too warm. She wants to open the window, but that will disturb the girl currently sleeping in her bed. She glances at the bed, at the sleeping girl. She notices the soft golden waves spreading across the pillows, the soft curve of her lips, and the faint blush like a blooming rose on her cheeks. The girl, her rose from Paris, is beautiful.

_If only..._

She doesn't know what possessed her to adopt a street waif from Paris, one who tried to stab her mother at that, as her ward, but every time she looks at the girl, she is glad she did so. She remembers the day in Paris when she first saw the girl. She was riding in the carriage with Andre when she saw the girl at the side of the street, barefoot and wearing a ragged blue dress. A typical street waif, yet her blue eyes were still wide with innocence. The eyes of an angel.

"Please, sir, would you like to buy me for the evening?" the girl asked, her voice and hands trembling. An angel shouldn't have to ask questions like that. She borrowed a gold livre from Andre to give the girl to feed her family, to take care of her sick mother. So the girl wouldn't have to sell herself. She paid Andre back when they returned to the house, but not before he teased her for falling for a street waif. She demurred. In truth, she never expected to see the girl again.

But then the girl came to Versailles, walking the twenty miles from Paris to seek revenge for her slain mother, and came into her life. Perhaps it was her innate sense of justice, or perhaps she couldn't bear watching an angel cry, but she offered the girl her aid to seek her mother's killer. And now that same girl lies sleeping in her bed.

She walks away from the window and over to the table in the center of the room. A bottle of wine, almost empty, and a half full glass sit on its surface. She lounges in the chair, stretching out her long legs, and toys with the glass before taking a sip. She may regret how much she drank tonight later, but right now she doesn't care. The wine dulls her nerves and her emotions.

The girl was in hysterics after the accident. She begged her Majesty's pardon and brought the girl home almost immediately. Thankfully, her Majesty understood her concern and allowed it. She held the girl during the carriage ride home, stroking her hair and whispering soft words of comfort as she sobbed incoherently. The girl was too distraught and tired to walk once they came home, so she carried the girl to her room to sleep. It didn't seem fair to leave her alone tonight, not after what happened. She remembers what it felt like to hold the girl in her arms, to feel the slender body pressed up against to hers. She remembers the rush of desire that filled her heart, the desire to hold on to the girl and never let her go.

The girl whimpers in her sleep. Her slender hand clutches at the sheets. A tear trickles down her pale face. The whimper turns into a low sob.

_If only I had been born a man..._

She pushes back her chair and walks over to the bed. The girl tosses restlessly in her sleep. She sits at the edge of the bed and gently runs her hand over the girl's tangled curls. The girl leans into her hand and reaches out to her, murmuring something that sounds like her name.

"Hush, Rosalie, hush. Everything will be fine." She continues to pet the girl's hair. The sobs slow and eventually stop. The girl stirs and opens her eyes.

"Lady Oscar?" the girl's voice trembles as she sits up slowly. Her blue eyes are wide with repressed fear and panic. "I... I..." Her voice breaks, and the girl throws herself into her arms.

"I'm here, Rosalie. I'm here." She wraps her arms around the girl and enfolds the girl in her embrace. The girl's cheek rests on her shoulder. Tears begin to stain her shirt. "Please don't cry, Rosalie."

"I...I was dreaming...and everyone I loved was dead and I had killed them and... Ma, and Charlotte...you, Lady Oscar..." the girl shudders and buries her face into her shoulder. "I thought you were gone and I was scared..."

"Oh, Rosalie..." she leans forward and lightly presses her lips against the mass of golden hair. "I'm here now, Rosalie. I'm here. Everything will be fine. It was only a dream." 

"Lady Oscar..." the girl looks up at her with tear filled eyes. She smiles kindly and leans down to kiss away the tears. The girl looks at her in surprise.

"I'll protect you, Rosalie," she promises. "I'll keep you safe." The girl in her arms nods and relaxes. She holds the girl for some time longer, even as the girl drifts back to sleep. The girl's breath is warm against her face. She doesn't want to let the girl go, not now, not ever, but eventually, she realizes that she must. She eases the girl back into the bed, under the soft sheets. The girl wakes as she is about to leave. A light touch on her hand makes her stop.

"Lady Oscar... I... can you stay with me? Please?" the girl looks at her with pleading eyes and asks in a hesitant voice. She looks into those clear blue eyes and feels her resolve crumble. Some other night, some other time, she might push the girl away, but not tonight.

"I...I can stay," she bows her head and admits. She toes off her shoes and undresses before slipping under the covers. The girl snuggles against her, and she pulls the girl closer. It's comfortable, having the girl so close to her. The girl sighs, a small content sigh. She smiles.

_If only I had been born as a man, Rosalie, I would make you my wife in an instant. I would protect and guard you from the world...and I would never let you go. But I am not a man, only a woman. I cannot love you like you deserve. I cannot love you like I wish to. My love is only a woman's love. Is that truly what you desire? One day, someday, you will meet a man who you can truly love, and you will forget about this girlish fancy of yours for me. I wish it wasn't so. I wish...I wish I could love you like you deserve._

She turns to look at the sleeping girl next to her. The sky lightens in the east, and soon the sun will rise. The girl smiles in her sleep, a beautiful angelic smile. She cups the girl's face and then kisses her, a lingering tender kiss that she dare not give in the light of day. But it is not day yet, and she can hide her feelings under the cover of night for a bit longer.

_I love you, Rosalie._


End file.
